[From Manx Melodies, 1922]
WHAT brings you over the hill to-night?
What makes you look so treih ?
Are you hearing soun's in the win' to-night?
Or seeing what we can't spy?
You're snug an' warm down here, my son,
In your thatch-house by the shore.
But there's wan lyin' out in the storm, my son,
That I think on more an' more.
Will I take you home to the hill, to-night?
Or will you stop till morn?
You shall sleep in the children's bed to-night,
And take the road at dawn.
I would gladly stop down here, my son,
An' with the childher bide;
But there's wan lyin' out on the hill, my son.
Is callin' me to his side.
As I came over the hill to-night
His voice spoke in mine ear-
" Are thou coming soon, my widowed wife,
We are snugly housed up here."
" The turf grows over our heads, my wife,
The gorse is black and charred;
But we lie as warm up here, my wife,
As any in Maughold Churchyard."
So it's time I was takin' the road, my son,
But bide you where you be;
It's a road I must travel alone, my son,
An' he will be waiting for me.
But mind you now what I say to-night-
When you find my senseless clay
You'll take me home to the hill that night,
To the grave beside the way.
You'll lay me there in the gorse, my son,
Where he's waiting for me still;
I could not rest in my churchyard grave
An' him lyin' out on the hill.